A Very Claire Christmas
by Nanashi Jones
Summary: Sister Claire thought she had the perfect gift for Sister Catharine this Christmas, but after some unforseen circumstances, she finds she has so much more to give. A fanfic of webcomic, Sister Claire. Like its source, contains many shout-outs and guests.


Extending her hand deep into the darkness, Sister Claire swallowed. Dots of perspiration shown on her forehead as she dug through piles of unknowns until she lighted upon her goal. Face relaxing, she tugged on the item, but it held fast. Features returning to their worried state, she tried again with no success

"No," she said. "Oh no, no, no."

Biting her lip, she braced herself and with a mighty yank, pulled free her prize. Triumph faded almost instantly to panic as she tumbled top over teakettle from pulling so hard and her goal arced away to be caught by Bubby, the Bubble Boy Baby (the second).

From beneath herself, Claire sighed relief. "Thanks Bubby," she said.

Bubby gargled happily, eyes whirling as he floated about, and the shoebox Claire had sought resting on the length of his body.

Once she'd righted herself, Claire retrieved the box and wiped the dust from its top. Carefully raising the lid, she saw that inside, still nestled safely amongst the cotton it was packed in was the Christmas gift she had gotten for Sister Catharine: a porcelain angel. The figurine wore blue robes with small wings opening behind her, her skin the alabaster white of the material, hands clasped, her blond head bowed in quiet reflection.

Claire had seen the figurine almost a year ago while on a shopping trip with Catharine. The other nun had caught sight of the figure and smiled. Claire had not been entirely certain why there was a little sadness to the expression, but she remembered the overall warmth it had placed over her fellow Sister. She could see why too. The figure was of excellent craftsmanship and the work of the features quite fine. Claire wished that she could make such a thing of beauty, but any time she tried making something it always went wrong. Instead, she'd worked extra chores and scraped all the money together that she could to get the figure for Sister Catharine.

Even though her surrogate mother was gone these days, Claire was certain to give the gift to her. Somehow…

A sharp knock came from the door and Claire nearly bobbled the box again. Quickly placing it on her bed, she yelped, "Coming!"

Before she could get her hand to the door though, it swung inward with a crash. Dominating the portal was Sister Marguerite.

"S-s-s-s-Siter Marguerite!" Claire exclaimed, skidding to a halt.

"Sister Claire!" Sister Marguerite cracked off. "**You** are supposed to be in your training with Sister Olga!"

Claire tried to make herself as small as possible in the presence of her elder. "She asked that I come later today," she squeaked. "She said she had business before she could train me this morning."

"A **likely** story!" Sister Marguerite huffed, coming into the room. Bearing down on Claire, she pressed the younger girl a few steps. "You are being lazy! A miscreant! And slacking off in your duties!"

The last barb pushed Claire to her bed and when Sister Marguerite loomed over her, Claire fell back and flattened upon her mattress. A soft, but audible crunch came from beneath her. A breath later, the same noise came much quieter, but no less impressively from Claire's heart.

"What was that?" Sister Marguerite shot, her head whipping back and forth.

"Nothing," Claire said, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

Before Sister Marguerite could continue, Sisters Rosalie and Marie poked a head from either side of the door.

"Hey, Sister Claire!" they said in unison.

"Sister Olga asked us," began Sister Rosalie.

"To tell you," went Sister Marie.

"That she's ready for you," finished the both of them.

They then noticed the imposing figure of Sister Marguerite pivoting sharply to glare at the both of them. They swallowed.

"When you're done," said Sister Marie.

"Whenever," said Sister Rosalie.

The pair sagely bolted.

Sister Marguerite, some of her menace depleted, turned her head at Claire. "I'm watching you," she growled, narrowing her eyes.

Whirling, she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Claire hadn't moved from her spot. She remained there for a moment before taking a deep breath and coming up from where she lay.

Turning, she saw the shoebox, bursting with cotton and flattened. As she raised the permanently bent lid, she let out a silent sob. The beautiful figurine, once so delicate and eye-catching was now so broken and in many pieces. The face chipped, the hands removed at some impossible angle, the wings just… Shattered.

"Oh, Bubby…" Claire whispered. "It was for Sister Catharine… What am I gonna do?"

First, she went about her day, though with all the excitement of someone near a funeral dirge, which was at odds with her normal near-Christmas cheer. While odd, her fellow Sisters thought she was merely getting a case of holiday blues with Sister Catharine gone. Olga went surprisingly light on lessons and released Claire early. Mother Superior even patted the girl on the hand come dinner time.

Claire went through it all in a fog, her mind completely running through the possibilities of what she could do. Or more precisely, it went through how she had messed up.

Once everyone had retired for the evening, she crept out to the back stoop, her usual evening offering to the neighborhood cats bundled tight. As they swarmed through the thick snow to get to her, a touch of peace came to her face and she let their sandpaper kisses fawn over her face and fingers. When Snowy showed up though, her tears returned and she clutched her most familiar kitty close.

"I don't know what I'm going to do!" Claire wailed into Snowy's white fur. "It took me forever to get enough money for that present and now it's only a week till Christmas! I can't afford a new one and Sister Catharine won't get a present and she'll think I don't care about her and she'll go away and be an evil cat person and she'll be lonely forever and ever!"

This last really seemed to tip Claire over and she broke into fresh heavy sobs, nearly strangling the cat.

"Miao," Snowy wheezed, patting Claire's cheek with her paw from beneath her grip.

"So many tears for such a sweet face," came a heavenly voice. "We can't have that so close to Christmas."

Claire looked up and next to her was the gorgeous azure angel, Gabrielle. The smile that grew on her face warmed Claire all the way to her toes.

Gabrielle raised Claire's head with a touch of a delicate finger and somehow brought the warmth from her toes to her face. With the other hand holding a pristine handkerchief, she dashed lightly at Claire's eyes. Cheeks red, Clair looked shyly away from the angel, feeling like a baby.

"That's better," Gabrielle cooed. "Now..." She tossed the handkerchief behind her, letting it dissolve in a sparkle of stars. "What has brought you to such a state, love?"

Claire gulped and sighed, wishing she was more put together as the mother of the coming saviour. "It's... It's nothing. I shouldn't even be so upset."

"But you are and I am here, so let's out with it, hmm?"

Claire's eyes drifted to Gabrielle, who waited patiently and prettily. After taking a deep breath, she spoke. "It's this gift I got for Sister Catharine. It was this little beautiful angel figure and I saved up and did all sorts of chores to get it for her for Christmas even though we're not really supposed to be saving up money for personal things like that so I hid it even though I know hiding things is bad but it's important to me and I wanted to give it to her so badly and then when I was getting it Sister Marguerite surprised me and I sat on it and it broke into a million million pieces and it's totally broken and I'm totally broke and it's a week before Christmas and I-" Claire gagged as her lungs ran out.

"Breath," said Gabrielle.

"Whoooo," said Claire.

"You're so adorable when you're worked up," Gabrielle commented as Claire reworked to normal breathing. "But I see how your problem is a considerable one. Mmmm... Have you considered making her a gift?"

Claire's blush was fierce enough to turn her away from Gabrielle. "I'm no good at things like that," she said softly.

"Have you tried before?"

Gaze distant, Claire saw past clay-sculpting classes with the ash tray that looked like a horse and the horse that looked like a duck and the cup that somehow managed to be a mangled Arc de Triomphe. "Yes," Claire replied flatly. "It really didn't work out."

Placing a thoughtful finger to her chin, Gabrielle was quiet a moment. "What about the shop you bought it from?"

Claire tilted her head. "What about it?"

"Is it far?"

"No. It's just in the next town."

"What about the merchant you purchased it from?"

"Oh! He wasn't just a seller person, he was the sculptor. He said he was happy someone of..." A light bulb went off over Claire's head. "I could take it to the sculptor! He could fix it or maybe replace it for..." Claire dug into her habit and produced her change purse. Rummaging, she produced: "One! Dollar... And a paper clip." She stared at the contents in her palm. "Where did I get a paper clip?"

"Well, I like this idea," Gabrielle said, rising. "Let's get to it, shall we?"

"Eh?" Claire looked up at her guardian angel.

"We'll drive out to the next town, see him first thing in the morning and have you back before anyone's the wiser," she said, holding out her hand.

"Oh, I don't know..." Claire trailed off, playing with her fingers uncertainly.

"Sister Claire, would you doubt the inspiration from a messenger of God?" Gabrielle's face had become mellow and almost intimidating.

"No! Never!" Claire said, popping up to take Gabrielle's hand.

"Excellent!" cooed the blue angel with a bob of her shoulders. "We shall take the usual style." Gabrielle raised her hand to her lips and blew. From her encircled fingers a googly-eyed new Bubby grew and floated just in front of her. "Requesting item transfers, codes 309 and 9663."

The new Bubby bobbed, then lit up like an ornament. "Item transfers **initiated**!" it barked in a basso monotone.

One loud SPLURT! later and Gabrielle's motorbike, the Nimbus, sat lightly in the snow drift in front of the abbey. Bubby wavered in the air briefly, looking a spent bubble baby boy.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Claire wavered.

Gabrielle took her hand and when Claire looked to her, she was clad in a snow jacket and boots that had the same fluffy looking trim as her hair. Before Claire could ask how she did that a helmet was clapped on the nun's head, while a scarf wrapped around her neck.

"There," Gabrielle said, sliding into the front seat. "Don't want any accidents; the weather is frightful after all."

Claire adjusted her helmet so she could see and did notice that the direction of the town showed a heavy torrent of snow in the distance.

"Maybe we should wait a day until the snow's clear?"

Gabrielle shook her head as she gave the Nimbus a little rev. Claire dipped forward and wrapped her hands around Gabrielle's middle instinctively.

"I have it on good authority," Gabrielle said as she swerved past the gravestones and down the bumpy drive of the abbey. "That you will be enjoying a truly white Christmas, love, so no time like the present!"

She hit the slightly less snow covered roads with a soft bump and wheeled out onto the lane.

The ride was breathtaking. White flakes came heavy and fast as they steered through the empty road that led to the small town the other nuns went to for supplies (at least supplies they could not make or get on their own). Claire hung close to Gabrielle, who somehow managed to keep the little nun quite warm despite the heavy torrent of snow and cold wind blasting all around them.

_It's like some beautiful dream,_ Claire thought. _All this snow and I'm outside the abbey again! Oh, I'm glad Gabrielle knows what she's doing. I'd be at a loss about the-_

"The figure!" Claire blurted above the roar of the storm. "I forgot to get it!"

"Bubby took care of that, dear!" Gabrielle yelled back.

Turning in her seat, Claire saw a Bubby clinging merrily to a cargo box behind Claire. It waved as though it wasn't amidst a snow storm on a motorbike. Claire returned the gesture with a hesitant wiggle of her own fingers.

The snow got thicker and Claire felt worry grip her as Gabrielle peeked around the windshield once, then twice. A light flashed ahead on her left and Claire felt the bike jerk and bob in its direction. She yelped as she bounced and was soon staring out from under a pavilion where what appeared to be an entire wall of white, broken only by the barest glimpses of the road.

"We were in that?" Claire said blinking.

"Hm, yes," Gabrielle said, pulling back her hood and shaking some errant flakes from her flowing hair. "Good thing I spotted this inn or we might not have made it."

"What?" Claire squawked.

Gabrielle patted her head. "Trust in me, my dear," she said softly. "You know I would never put you to harm."

"I know..." Claire said. "I just... I worry."

"A true Catholic," Gabrielle said kindly.

Striding around the pavilion, Gabrielle went for the front door of the inn. Following close behind her, Claire caught a glimpse of a bus that had some stenciled writing on the side. "Gabrielle? What's a Wondaland Arts Society?"

Just as Gabrielle was about to answer, the front door opened and a youthful woman grinned at the pair. "Ah! What are you doing outside! Come in, come in," she said, hauling in Gabrielle, who swiftly clasped Claire's wrist, hauling the pair of them indoors.

"Welcome friends, to the Tumbling Fire Inn," said the woman who had hauled Gabrielle and Claire inside. She was of average height with a face that seemed born in a smile and her hair was tied in an impressive braid down her back. "My name is Lee Hack and-"

"Lee!" came a sharp, commanding voice from around a corner. "Where are the clean cups? It's a pit back here!"

"That's Zula DeLisle, my partner." She winked at the pair at the last. "We run our little roadside inn here, and I'm betting you two need a room for the night!"

"That would be most kind of you," Gabrielle said graciously.

Grinning, the girl spun on her heel and expertly vaulted the front desk. As she rummaged around the keys, touching each room briefly, she spoke, "You two actually were pretty lucky. A real live band had to stop in as well because of the weather and they've offered to play for the other stranded guests. Isn't that great?"

Gabrielle smiled simply, nodding.

"What kind of band?" Claire asked.

"A big one with all kinds of extra instruments. Their lead singer was so nice and she had such a vibrant aura- very blue and upbeat. Like your friend's!" Lee indicated Gabrielle with a nod of her head. Claire started to ask about "auras" when Lee popped up with a smile. "Ah, this one is just right!" she said holding up an old-fashioned, brass key. "It used to be our honeymoon suite, but we remodeled and I can tell it's perfect for you two."

"I agree," Gabrielle said, taking the offered key.

"Honeymoon what?" Claire said.

"Lee!"

Claire, Gabrielle and Lee turned in unison to see a woman stomp into view. She possessed sharp features framed by jet black bangs while the rest of her hair was held back in an authoritative top-knot. Dressed in a burgundy workshirt and brown-red pants that appeared specially tailored for her only added to her regal bearing. She also appeared plenty mad.

Claire shrank back as the woman turned to scream at Lee. "Lee! The glasses! Where are they?"

"Zula, did you know we have customers?" Lee said, apparently unfazed by the shouting woman.

Zula remained still for a moment before turning to aim the most disturbing smile at the ladies Claire had seen since Sister Marguerite had been asked to grin for a group photo.

"Hello," Zula said, her voice in a much more conversational manner. "I do apologize for my outburst. With the blizzard we are… Stretched a bit thin and I was working with Lee to ensure everything was to your utmost satisfaction."

"We're fine, thank you," Gabrielle said.

"Glad to hear. Lee, if I may see you in the back office?" And Zula pivoted on her heel to march purposely back through a pair of swinging doors.

"She's such a strong personality," Lee said, her smile still in place.

"I'll say," Claire commented.

Glancing at the clock, Lee indicated another pair of double doors that showed the bustle of a few of the Inn's guests. "I think the band's about to start if you want to see them. Shall I have someone get your…" She looked around for luggage and Claire felt horrible that the one time she didn't pack, she should have had some available.

Gabrielle flashed a winning smile. "We travel light. Thank you, dear." And she strode into the room, Claire following behind.

"Thank you, though," Claire said to Lee.

Lee bowed. "You are most welcome!"

Beyond the double doors was an old pub-style area with a stage at one end and a smattering of tables surrounding it. A small collection of travelers hiding from the storm were already congregated, making the space further resemble a throwback to days when inns incorporated stages as a matter of course.

While Claire took in her surroundings, Gabrielle sashayed to a table that had a perfectly unobstructed view of the stage. She waved the passing waiter down and requested a spirit and milk for her companion.

Claire's eyes were locked on the movement at the stage: several men and women in what looked like tuxedo suits minus the jackets were chatting and puttering about as they finished setting up equipment the little nun had never seen before. Big boxes amidst a drum set and stands where guitars waited, plus what looked like a piano on sticks. But plenty of room was left for the old-fashioned microphone in the center.

"Oh wow, I've never seen a concert band like this," Claire breathed, not noticing when the milk joined her at the table.

"Not even the under-the-sea experience from earlier?" Gabrielle chided lightly.

Claire blushed. "Well, I guess that counts. I just mean here with all the band members setting up and the like. It's so new and different and-"

"Starting," Gabrielle said, placing a finger to her lips and indicating Claire to pay attention.

As Claire's eyes moved, they were adjusting to the lowering light when a spot-light encircled the microphone. The drummer tapped out a low beat that reminded Claire of that jazz stuff Sister Catharine had played for her a few times when she was younger. After a few moments, the curtain parted and a gorgeous woman with chocolate brown skin and a pompadour hairdo that Claire had never seen anyone ever use before sashayed out. She wore a spilling ebony nightgown that practically wrapped the stage in its size, stopping just over her chest to expose the classic jewelry at her throat with matching friends at her wrists. Diamonds popped against the light at each of her earlobes. She was like a shining star in Claire's eyes.

The spotlight centered and tightened, making it seem as though the other bandmates were just shadow creatures of pure music swirling behind the woman, giving her more voice. As the guitar and piano chimed in, Claire recognized the tune and started to say as much to Gabrielle, who smiled and pointed the girl back to the star woman on the stage.

"Oh, holy niiight," she crooned. "The stars, their gleams proloooonging…"

Claire had never heard this song this way. She was used to the perfunctory and ordered song her own parish sung. Strong and formal and always a staple at the convent. This was so much deeper somehow. The star woman's voice carried it out, each note painting the small crevices of the pub stage with beauty and emotion and the strength of her one voice. She sang it lilting as well, bringing in notes Claire was sure weren't there originally, but definitely sounded like they should be. By the time she had finished, her head bowed, eyes closed, the entire pub was stunned in silence, awed by what they had just heard.

Gabrielle was the first to clap, another perfect sound. Soon, the rest of the pub joined in and as their energy piqued, the star woman quirked a smile and grabbed roughly at the side of her dress.

In one motion, she tore the spilling ebony gown from her to reveal a starched white shirt tucked up to her chest, crisp black pants and spat shoes shined to a high reflection.

"One Two Three Four!" she bellowed into the mic.

As the band shifted gears to another tune that Claire thought she knew, the star woman unrolled sleeves from the tucked shirt and slid into them, then buttoning the white shirt up to a high collar. Foot tapping, she produced a tie from her pocket, one with a cartoonishly large bow, and she bopped her head as she tied it off expertly. Eyebrows bouncing, she snapped her legs and smiled encouragingly to her band who responded in kind. Then, with a fluid motion, she shot out her hand and tipped the mike to her lips.

"Jinglebell-jinglebell-jinglealltheway!"

The night proceeded apace from there. Claire learned new songs, though, among other songs she had to whisper sotto voce at Gabrielle about what "tipping on a tightrope" meant. She also found she liked jazz and rhythm and blues, her head bobbing along in time with the music and she clapped gleefully along. After what felt like a lifetime of music and show, the star woman thanked the crowd, her band members, who she named off one by one, and bowed lastly as Cindi Mayweather, the entertainment for the night.

Though the pub was under-crowded, they made up for the applause in strength and appreciative energy.

Rather than disappear back behind the curtains though, Cindi hopped from the stage and to Claire's astonishment was walking straight toward her table! She locked up as the woman opened her arms and… Embraced Gabrielle.

"Gabi!" she laughed. "I thought that was you!"

Gabrielle returned the sentiment, kissing Cindi on the cheek. Laughing her tinkling-drops-in-the-air laughter, she nodded and left a hand around Cindi's waist, the pair bumping at the hip.

"Hello, Cindi, how have you been?"

The other woman chuckled. "Can't complain. Life's on the rise."

"I am so glad to hear," Gabrielle said. Turning the woman slightly, she presented Claire, whose eyes had grown to the size of saucers and hands were trembling as they clutched the chair desperately. "This is my charge, Sister Claire."

"Hey there, Claire," Cindi said, disentangling herself from Gabrielle. "Enjoy the show?"

"Yes," squeaked Claire.

Cindi murred a laugh and smiled a little wider. "Shy one aintcha?"

"Yes," Claire squeaked again, barely moving.

Cindi laughed broader this time. "Well don't let me scare ya. I'm just like anybody else." Turning to Gabrielle, she smiled deeper. "Let me just help my band close up and I'll join you two."

As Cindi returned to the stage to lend a hand, Gabrielle arched an eyebrow and floated a playful smile at the frozen Claire. "And I thought for sure I'd have to reel you in when she came over."

Blinking, Claire watched as Cindi shared smiles and chores with her bandmates. She nimbly lifted one of the guitars and slid it into its case, handing it to a man Claire hadn't noticed before- he was dressed simply in black shirt and slacks, as were several other women and men assisting the band. How had Claire missed them?

"I've never heard music like hers before," she murmured. "What do I say to someone who can sing like that?"

"'Hello' works," Gabrielle teased, easing down next to the girl.

The two watched as Cindi and the Wondaland Arts Society packed all the instruments in, letting people from the crowd filter up at a leisurely pace to chat. While Claire watched no small number of crowd members approached Cindi to offer their appreciation, she also saw just as many approach the man who'd been at the drums and one of the guitarists. Claire remained in awe at her safe distance with Gabrielle.

"I can't just say 'Hi' to her. How she sings and her band plays… Hot dog, I never heard music like that!"

"Mmmm," Gabrielle said. "Cindi definitely has a set of pipes the choirs would love to use, but she's just like you or me. Well, like you maybe. Both of you come from humble origins you know?"

"I- don't. What?"

Gabrielle gestured to the crowd. "Just because Cindi can bring people joy with her gift, love, doesn't mean she didn't work for it. She put quite a bit of effort into making it as far as she has. And you can see she has far yet to go."

Claire absorbed this like she did everything with Gabrielle: confusedly, but with a determined expression of contemplation that made Gabrielle say "Ooo" and pinch Claire's cheeks.

"So adorable," Gabrielle said.

Claire rubbed her cheeks and before she could respond, saw Cindi coming over, her band and some curious fans. As the Wondaland Arts Society engulfed the table and Cindi began plying Gabrielle with bits of times since past, Claire became aware of a rather tall and slim girl sitting next to her.

Glancing sideways, the girl glanced back and wiggled her fingers in greeting. "Hey," she said.

Claire stared at her mussed, dark hair and rectangular glasses. "Hi," Claire replied.

"Are you a real ginger?"

Momentarily thrown, Claire rebounded, "Uh… Yes?"

"Neat! Your hair's cute."

Blush tickling her cheeks, a weak smile sprouted on Claire's face. "Thanks."

"And you're a real nun, right?"

Glancing around to see if this was some kind of bizarre joke and finding no such indication that she could discern, Claire nodded which only got a squeal of delight from the strange girl. Next she knew, Claire was being bombarded with a history of nun-passion and trivia involving iThe Sound of Music/I.

The door to the inn swung open wide some time later and with Gabrielle just beside her, Claire stumbled like a newborn colt from the enclave.

"So sorry you couldn't stay with us!" Lee called after the pair.

Gabrielle waved back. "We will never forget your hospitality, but we really must be going."

Lee nodded, looking around at the snow that had gone from near-whiteout to barely falling. "Just be careful on the roads! We'll keep your room open in case you need it on the way back."

Gabrielle nodded, fluttering her fingers at the innkeeper. Claire leaned against the Nimbus, her mind obviously elsewhere.

"I didn't think being a nun would mean talking about myself to strangers…" she said.

"Oh come now, love," Gabrielle crooned as she slid into her fluffy jacket. "That girl was nice."

"Yeah, but she was sketching me." Claire's uncertainty painted her face. "I dunno about that."

"You're worth drawing," Gabrielle said, laying a soothing hand on Claire's cheek.

Claire basked in the comfort, her stomach unknotting and the serenity she usually experienced around Gabrielle wrapping her in a blanket. When she opened her eyes, a helmet plonked down on her head and Gabrielle was offering a white gloved hand.

"Let's go. Your sculptor awaits."

Laying her hand in Gabrielle's, Claire was whisked in one smooth motion back onto the Nimbus. Bubby bounced down and sat atop the package, securing it once more. Slapping a helmet on his head, he gave Gabrielle a googly-eyed thumbs up. Gabrielle winked at the Bubble boy and revved the Nimbus to life.

Snow flying, she swooshed from the turnabout in front of the inn and took off down the small road. Once again, Claire clung desperately to her advisor in all things heavenly. She felt like she should be more exhausted, it being so late, but somehow she was just slightly heavy lidded. Just a little. She'd just close her eyes and enjoy the ride as the low thrum of the Nimbus ran up Gabrielle and into her.

After a minute, Gabrielle heard a rocket launcher snore crop up over the motor. Glancing back, she saw Claire holding her tightly, but her head lolled against the fluff of Gabrielle's hood. A single drop of drool batted from Claire's mouth in the breeze, never letting go. Gabrielle smiled and pulled up on the Nimbus, taking it above the streets just a little in the air to give the little nun a smoother ride.

When Claire woke, her head was on a down of comfort, though her back felt a little stiff. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she twisted and realized her head was in Gabrielle's lap. Gabrielle smiled down at the young nun.

Claire bolted upright almost instantaneously. "Ohmygosh! I'msosorry! I just- You were soft and-!"

Gabrielle placed an comforting finger to Claire's lips. "Shh, Sister Claire. We're here."

Eyes turning from Gabrielle, she saw she was in the nearby town and the sun was just peeking above the horizon, showing small businesses opening up. All around her were the small shoppes and eaves-hung houses that seemed like something time left be a hundred years ago. The only sign of modernity were the clothes of the people and the putting scooters as early risers started their day. As she took in more of her surroundings, she realized they were in the town center with Gabrielle perched on the lip of the fountain that Claire had thrown wishing pennies in before when she was a child and visiting with Sister Catharine.

No wonder her back was stiff.

Straightening a little more she looked round till she saw the figurine shop. "There it is!" she hooted, dismounting the fountain. Unfortunately, her foot had gone to sleep as well and wasn't quite as awake as the rest of her. Stumbling, Gabrielle caught her easily.

"Urf!" Claire said. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." Eyes bugging at the sensation, she shook her foot lightly. "Aaah! Aaah! Pins and needles! Pins and needles!"

Gabrielle's smile lit up the already warming morning. "Easy there."

Claire steadied herself and nodded. "Thanks."

Hobbling with the assistance of Gabrielle, she soon had her foot back and moved purposefully to the shop. As she drew close, Gabrielle withdrew her arm of support and Claire accepted the shoebox holding the figurine from Bubby. Just as her hand hit the door, she watched the sign flip from "Closed" to "Open."

The knob was jerked from her grip suddenly and she was greeted by a woman who seemed to tower over even Gabrielle. She wore a sturdy apron over a practical blouse and slacks, her blond hair, shot through with dark in places was boyishly short, with just a few bangs above her eyes. After taking a deep breath, she smiled down at Claire.

"Morning," she said. "You're my first customer. How can I help you?"

Claire blinked, forgetting her manners briefly. She glanced from the mountain of a woman, then to the shop window where she recognized a few of the figurines as being the same ones from before. Nervous at the possibility that she had made a mistake, she almost turned there, but remembered that Gabrielle had her back. Looking back to the woman, she composed herself.

"I'm sorry, is this- Uh- Is this the sculptor's shop?"

The woman quirked a knowing smile. "It is _a_ sculptor's shoppe."

"It's just the last time I was here, there was this man…" Claire seemed uncertain of how to explain herself.

Tilting her head slightly, the woman reflected and then her face lit up. "Tall guy, silver hair, lots of little cuts on his fingers?"

Claire nodded. She remembered the sculptor's hands quite clearly because she didn't want to accidentally say anything- they had looked like chipped rock.

"My Papa. He used to run the shoppe. Now he just checks in from time to time. Is this something I can help you with?"

"Oh boy, I hope so," Claire said, relieved she _was_ at the right place. "I bought a figurine from your papa and I'm happy with it, I really am, but there was an accident and…" She opened the box, revealing the carnage. "Can you help?"

The woman's eyes cooled a few degrees in analysis. Taking the box, she crooked her finger. Claire glanced back at Gabrielle, who waved her in. Claire followed the woman through the shop and again she was greeted by a place filled with trinkets and precious creations. Porcelain figures of cats, dogs, little gnomes and other fancifulness smiled down at her, but Claire noticed they weren't the same style as the figure she'd brought in. She also saw more glassworks than the last she came in. While she looked around in wonder, she felt worry blossom deep in her stomach. This was the same shop, but not the same place as before.

The woman went behind her counter and sat the box down. Laying a white cheesecloth out, she removed each piece of the figure carefully, placing them around until they looked a like a literal explosion of the once serene angel.

Finger tapping, the woman leaned down close, popping a jeweler's eye in place. Claire waited expectantly, her hands clasped in silent prayer.

The sculptor's daughter shook her head, rising back to her full height. "I'm sorry, but it's beyond me. Maybe if only a bit had broken off, I could restore it, but this…" Her eyes were gentle as she faced Claire. "I'm so very sorry."

Claire felt her heart shatter all over again. "But, I thought since your papa was a sculptor that you could…"

The woman shook her head, a good-natured smile on her face. "Nope. Not my skill. Papa showed me a million times over the fine work of porcelain, but I could never get it. I mean, I can make solid figures-" She indicated the charming creatures that Claire noticed on the way in: solid craftsmanship, but they didn't breathe like the little angel had. "But I didn't have his gift."

Looking from the figure to the woman, Claire nodded. She picked up each piece delicately and placed it back in the shoebox, even getting the little crumb-like bits. The process seemed slower than it should and Claire thought she'd be forever picking up the pieces, but soon she they were all boxed up.

"Thank you for your time," Claire said, putting the lid on the box and her firm smile settling in place. "I appreciate you looking at it for me at least."

The woman smiled again. After a moment of thought she shook her finger in decision and said, "Hang on."

Claire watched her go through a set of curtains and when she returned she had a linen cloth wrapped up in her hands. She lay it down in front of Claire.

"What's this?" Claire asked, pointing.

"Unwrap it and see," she replied.

Taking the wrap by the corner, Claire lifted it and beneath was glasswork like she'd never seen before. Like her earlier figure, it was an angel, but where the porcelain figure was alive in its demureness and serenity this one was vivid and active. The robes were tinted blue and hard lines of azure were in the folds. The wings contrarily were tinged almost pink with hotter shades at the top while the skin of the beauty was clear, regular glass. Her open eyes and beaming face made Claire tear up it was so happy.

"Oh wooooooow," Claire crooned.

"Like I said, I can't do porcelain, but glass and me have a very healthy relationship," the glass working woman said.

Claire then noticed her hands, which rather than cuts and healed bruises showed burns and little recovered blister marks. They were the working hands of a craftsperson.

"It's amazing," Claire whispered.

"It's yours," the woman replied.

"What? I couldn't! It's so pretty. You put so much work into it- I couldn't just take it."

"Papa put a lot of work into your figurine. I figured he'd never part with it, but then one day, he tells me he did for this little nun who just about burst when she saw it." She cocked her head. "I'd be a pretty poor sport to deny you at this point."

Claire looked at the glasswork angel again, biting her lip as her mind raced. "But, it's so lovely. I should pay for it at least."

"How much do you got?" the woman asked.

The door jingled as Claire came out, a dazed smile on her face and a glass figurine in the shoebox with the first angel. Inside, the glass working woman put a dollar in the till and bound up the receipts in a new paperclip.

Gabrielle was back at the fountain, playing with Bubby, who bounced merrily on her palm. She looked over as Claire approached. "Get it taken care of?"

"Yeah. Sort of." Claire peeked in the box to assure herself the glass angel was there and she didn't just imagine the whole thing. When she closed it, she noticed the old town clock and her eyes bugged.

"Oh no! It's almost time for the abbey to be up! We'll never get back in time!" She looked around frantically and realized Gabrielle's scooter was no longer present. "We have to go!"

"Relax dear, we'll get there with time to spare. I acquired us a new means of transport."

Gesturing to a big black bus with silver lettering along the side, Claire tracked Gabrielle's indicated hand and saw the bus doors open with a little smoke curling down the stairs. A woman in pitch black shades the shape of hearts poked her head out. She had a prominent nose and wore the brightest red lipstick Claire had ever seen. Her hair was blonder than even the twins, with streaks of deep brown in the coiffed bouffant.

"Hey," she said. "You're Gabrielle's friend, right? Fancy a lift?"

"I didn't know music had royalty," Claire commented as she bounced along across from the Lady who wore no pants. Though Claire did her best not to stare, it was a little hard as she wore the biggest boots Claire had ever seen with some seriously short shorts. Coupled with the t-shirt and baggy denim jacket festooned with buttons and shiny gems, Claire got the impression that this Gaga person was actually dressed down for today.

"Don't know about royalty," Gaga said, removing her shades to reveal eyes framed by heavy liner and popping purple shadow. "But I'm definitely tops."

"That's nice," Claire said, wearing her weak smile. The bus had other people that reminded her of when Gabrielle took her to the undersea club: they were all so pretty and shiny and dressed so different. She hoped they reached the Abbey soon, going outside with Gabrielle was making her head spin.

"Never thought I'd see you again, G," Gaga said, sweeping her eyes over Gabrielle.

The G.O.D. rep reclined on an extended sofa nearby, her attention split between Gaga and Claire easily. Her smile was at once flirtatious, but maintaining her composed air. "Never say never, L."

Gaga returned a smile that belonged on someone giddier and five years younger.

Claire felt like something was going on and to avoid getting too lost, she rechecked her precious cargo. The glass angel shone up at her and relief once again settled across her shoulders, but something else chewed away at her stomach.

"Got a hot potato?"

Claire looked up and found Gaga leaning in to try and peek at what she was peeking at. "Oh!" Claire said. "No, ma'am, Miss Gaga. Er, Lady." Shaking her head, she plunged on. "It's just my Christmas gift for a friend."

Claire showed the glass angel to Gaga, whose eyes widened in appreciation. Pointing to the remains of the porcelain angel that bounced around the glass one, she asked, "What's the story there?"

"That was the original gift before I sat on it." Claire resealed the box and was careful to keep it on her lap and away from any potential butt-accepting surfaces.

"Wow," Gaga said, nodding appreciatively. "Ran all this way to replace a gift for a friend. They must be pretty important."

"She is," Claire said, laying a hand on the box. "She's really important and I wanted to get her something nice and now I have but..." Claire began to twiddle her fingers.

Gaga cocked her head at the girl, then cast a glance at Gabrielle, who sat watching, her playful smile in place. The sky blue woman nodded at Gaga, who then rose to sit next to Claire, an openly inquisitive look on her colorful features. "But what? C'mon, tell Momma Monster."

"Monster?" Claire blurted, her eyes bugging and darting madly. "What? Where?"

Gaga bit down on a laugh as Gabrielle bounced with little giggles at Claire's reaction. Placing a comforting hand on Claire's shoulder, the woman calmed the little nun. "Just a nickname. Seriously, what's on your mind?"

Claire gave Miss Gaga, Lady, a long careful look, before swallowing her nerves back. She glanced again inside the box and said, "Since I started this, I wanted to make sure I'd be able to give something nice to Catharine for Christmas, but along the way I kept meeting people giving things they've made themselves and making others happy.

"And now I feel like I'm being selfish because I want to make something for Catharine myself!" Claire drooped her head, shameful.

Gabrielle beamed from her corner. A few performers chuckled as they eavesdropped.

Gaga brought a hand up under Claire's chin and raised it up so she was looking the younger girl in the eye.

"Hey there. No need for tears. That's some of the most un-selfish feeling I've heard of in a long time."

"Really?" Claire said.

"Really," Gaga confirmed.

"But Gabrielle," Claire said, turning her head. "I made you drive all over."

"My choice, dear," Gabrielle said with a wink.

"Knowing G, she enjoyed it," Gaga said.

Again Gabrielle flashed a smile somewhere between safe-for-polite-company and implications-that-left-little-to-be-implied.

Claire blushed at the approval, but it faded after a moment to a furrowed brow. "I don't know what I can do though. I can't sculpt, I can't draw, I can't even make a poem." The hopelessness was gone now, replaced by the attitude of someone going through a checklist looking for the right answer. Gabrielle smiled deeper, seeing the Claire she knew, the Claire that was strong, the Claire that carried the weight of the world within her. Still, Claire in her Determinator role sometimes needed a gentle nudge to correct.

"What about singing?" Gabrielle offered.

Claire perked up out of her thoughts. "What about it?"

"As I recall, love, you had quite the singing voice down at the club last time."

Claire chewed on her lip. "Maybe... But how would I give that to Catharine?"

Gaga smiled and rose going over to a wall. One of the bandmates caught the cue and drifted back to fetch his guitar. Flipping up a panel, she revealed a palm-shaped piece of glass. Placing her hand against it, light flashed beneath, then a microphone dropped down from the ceiling.

"Baby, I was born this way," she crooned.

The wall she'd spoken to rumbled and the panels opened up, retrieving the chairs and tables against them and producing a soundboard, microphone and piano. Gaga walked around a chair that swung out beneath the piano and sat decorously, like a maestro on the verge of composition. She played her fingers in a brief arpeggio that climbed into a few bars of a popping song Claire couldn't place. Nearby, one bandmate had sat with a guitar, plugging it into the sudden studio, with another man readying a bass and one of the girls settling at a pad of electronic drums.

Gaga ran up and down the piano a few times. "What song do you have in mind?"

"Can't just use your Macbook can you?" Gabrielle teased.

"Where's the fun in that?" It was Gaga's turn to wink.

Claire's eyes danced in wonder at what she saw. Gabrielle rose up and guided the young nun until she was facing a microphone straight on.

"Am I always going to be in front of these things around you?" Claire asked.

Gabrielle just smiled.

Gaga was noodling the piano at this point, bouncing along like background music in a quiet scene. Sliding her glasses down, she smirked. "What'll it be?"

Claire stared at the mic. "I have no idea."

"What do you know by heart?"

"Some hymns."

"Me too," Gaga said.

"Wow, really?"

"Yep. So, would you like to sing her a hymn?"

Claire started to speak, then snapped her mouth shut. After a moment of heated thinking, she said, "Actually, I sort-of know a song that isn't a hymn. I heard it on the radio a while ago and remembered the tune and it was really pretty."

"Can you hum a few bars?"

Claire paused before tapping her finger in a beat and da-da-da-ed her best impression of the song for Gaga and her bandmates. A mutual grin spread through the group.

Gaga chuckled. "Yeah, we can handle that." Turning to the band, they spoke in hushed tones, working out how to adapt to the singer coming in.

Claire glanced at Gabrielle. "I don't remember all the lyrics though, I made some up to fill the holes."

"That will make it more yours, love. Sing from your heart and she will hear it."

Claire smiled, bolstered by the kind words.

Gaga turned back. "I'll point to you when you can go, all right?"

Claire nodded, her face determined. Clasping her hands, a silent prayer went out that she could do this.

Gaga tapped out a beat, her drummer picked it up, soft, earthy and hollow. Gaga hit a button and a red light went on in the console. The guitarist was first in, with Gaga a second behind and Claire perked up at the familiar melody. Almost too quick for her, Gaga nodded to Claire.

Claire breathed deep, waited for her time and sang.

Sister Claire had not been blessed with a strong voice, or a grand voice. She was no great sculptor like the woman in the shoppe, nor could she perform so animatedly as Cyndi had. What Claire did, what she did more than anyone else, what made her soul shine was that she cared. In every note of the song, inexpertly sang and rough at the edges, she sang for her caring of Sister Catharine. So bright was Claire's heart, Gaga soon joined behind her on the freshly built chorus. Then Gabrielle, then the band- a full wave of harmonious voices sweeping through the bus with the contagious love that Claire carried.

By the time she'd finished, tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes and Claire realized just when everyone had joined in. Cheeks hot, she curtsied, nodding her head to the applause.

"She'll love it," Gaga said, turning to a soft ding from a batch of machines beside her. A sparkling CD came out. Humming the song, she slid the disc into a case and in marker wrote, "Country Road by Sister Claire."

"Here ya go. I think we're at your stop too."

Claire turned and could see her abbey just around a bend. Grinning, she accepted the disc and threw her arms around the musician. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Our pleasure," Gaga replied, returning the hug.

The little nun went to each band member, hugging them and expressing her gratitude until Gabrielle steered her down the bus-steps and through the back courtyard. With one last backward glance, Claire waved her farewells as Gaga saluted from the bus's window.

Feet crunching in the snow, she realized that barely ten minutes had passed.

"How did we-"

Gabrielle smirked knowingly. "A little miracle, a little bit of Gaga."

Claire watched the bus turn a corner and she had to rub her eyes. She thought she saw a sparkle of light dance around the edge like magic. She had stayed up really late last night after all, she must have been seeing things.

At the back stoop, she turned and hugged Gabrielle tightest of all. "I never would have been able to do it without you."

"You'd have found a way, little one," Gabrielle replied, her voice a soothing whisper in Claire's ear.

They separated and Gabrielle smiled demurely. "Be seeing you. Merry Christmas." She stepped back and into the fountain, the water glowing ever so slightly before sucking her down.

Claire blinked and shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she said, easing open the door.

Walking through the Abbey, she waved at the other nuns who were just waking, some a little surprised to see Claire up and about so early. She hummed as she passed them on the way to her dorm. Up on the landing, she found Sisters Rosalie and Marie waiting for her. They rushed up quickly, clutching Sister Claire's hands; she was quick to tuck the box under one arm and prevent another incident.

"Where were you?" Sister Rosalie said.

"We had to cover for you!" Sister Marie chimed in.

"Well, not really," said Sister Rosalie.

"Nobody came by your room," said Sister Marie.

"It was kind of weird."

"But not."

Sister Claire giggled. "Thanks guys, I really appreciate it." She hugged them.

"Where were you?" the twins asked.

"I had to take care of some Christmas shopping," Sister Claire responded, moving between them to open the door to her room.

"Now?" Sister Rosalie asked.

"This close?" Sister Marie said.

"Just one of those things I had to do, you know?" Sister Claire smiled in a way that seemed wiser than the twins thought Claire was capable of. "I'm gonna take a quick nap. Think you two can cover for me for another hour or so?"

The twins exchanged a suspicious glance over this slightly different Claire. "Sure," they said with quirked smiles.

Claire bobbed her head appreciatively and closed the door.

Exhaling against it, she went back under her bead and rooted around for the wrapping paper she knew she had stored for the occasion. Humming her song, she first wrapped the glass angel, which she delicately placed on her window sill. Moving to the broken angel, she briefly paused and snapped her fingers. Rummaging through her desk, she pulled out some super glue and after a few exciting moments where she nearly permanently glued her wimple to her head, she had reassembled the angel. The figure was nowhere near its former glory, but there was an earnestness not present in the design prior and Claire handled it carefully as she wrapped it in the silver paper.

The last bit, the CD she did not wrap as she rummaged through her closet for something that could play the thing. She came across a square package with a bow on it and a tag that read: "From Gabrielle. Merry Christmas dear. Thought you might need this."

Claire smiled ear to ear. One last little miracle for the little nun.

She unwrapped a HeavenSent Boombox that got some really pretty radio stations and put in the CD. After a few false starts, she figured it out and went to her window. Cracking it open, she aimed the boombox at the world and hit play.

Flopping down on her bed, Claire closed her eyes and listened as her song carried far over the hillside, twisting through trees and touching everyone it passed. Ears perked up, heads turned and even a herd of mountain ponies turned in interest at the music wafting through their fields.

Eventually, with only the fact that it was a Christmas miracle backing the sound, the ears it needed to reach most twitched and deep within herself, Catharine warmed to Clementine's melody.

"Almost heaven, old cathedral.

Snow-capped mountains, chilly water river

Life is nice here

Nicer than most see

I wish that you were here

To share it all with me.

Country roads, bring her home,

To the place, she belongs.

Abbey fountain, neighbor's kittens

Bring her home, country roads.

All my memories, gathered 'round her,

Helpful teacher, gentle caring sister.

Dark and dusty, when we saw the sky

Stars across the late night

Teardrops in my eye.

Country roads, bring her home,

To the place, she belongs.

Abbey fountain, neighbor's kittens

Bring her home, country roads.

I hear her voice

In the morning hour, she'd call me.

Seasons and calendar tell me just how far away.

And doing chores I get the feeling

That she should have made it home yesterday...

Yesterdaaaay.

Country roads, bring her home,

To the place, she belongs.

Abbey fountain, neighbor's kittens

Bring her home, country roads.

Country roads, bring her home,

To the place, she belongs.

Abbey fountain, neighbor's kittens

Bring her home, country roads.

Bring her home, country roads. Bring her home, country roads."

Song done, Claire rolled over in her bed to grab just a few winks before being needed for her holiday chores. Soon, it would be Christmas after all, and she needed to be well-rested to spread all her holiday cheer.


End file.
